by Wendy Brumback

Created on: January 20, 2010

THE BALLAD OF THE OLD MAN

“Hey kids, get off my lawn.”

The little old man said

“Kids, they have no respect,

I want to go to my bed.”

Still the kids snuck back on

All they wanted was to know

What it was he must hide

What it was he didn’t show

To the window he came

And yelled out his distain

Again they ran away,

Kids really are such a pain.

But as fate would have it

The next day he was dead

His soul sighed and groaned

Hated what was never said.

The kids, they came again

to look through that “For Sale”

To seek out the unknown

Truth, in a pile of mail.

One by one they opened

The letters of his past

A story told of time

Life had happened so fast.

Tale of honor and glory,

strength and love known

Travel and luxury

A life never alone.

Always known as handsome

He married at eighteen

A beloved beauty

Consequences unseen

Loss of wife and child

To mourn he ran away

Enlisted in the army

Knowing he couldn’t stay

So, to keep out the pain,

he kept someone nearby

and brought them on a trip,

never afraid to fly.

But like every story

Time it went very fast

In this he found he lost,

mourning those that passed

So to a house he tool

And closed his eyes to dream

To remember that love

Though odd it sure did seem

Now back in the moment

The letters now stacked

Clinging to memories

All his belongings packed,

The life they never knew

It made them want to weep

In the end all he ever

Wanted, was just to sleep.

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